A World of Fear
by clearasthesea
Summary: Isabella is a fourteen year old girl that has grown up fearing the dark, to the monsters under her bed, to getting yelled at, to not making an A on her test, to walkers, to being alone. She uses her fear to drive her to live a tomorrow. When she stumbles upon a prison, she is then reminded of the true definition of fear, alongside happiness, love, and friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So this is actually my very first fan fic and I'm super excited to be posting it! I expect myself to be posting every Friday or Saturday, but definitely not throughout the week because of school. Please review, for I'd love to see on how i can improve. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of its characters besides my own.**

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**"****It is the strange fate of man, that even in the greatest of evils the fear of the worst continues to haunt him."** Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I gently open my eyes and hope that it'll all be gone. These days, I don't have much hope left in me, not since my mother died. Originally, we had made it out. We lived in a town a few miles off from Atlanta and got out as soon as it all began. There were promised refugees in Atlanta, and the government assured us we'd be safe. But we didn't believe them. This was god's will. This is what He wanted to happen. Though these days, He doesn't exist. I guess He must've died off, too.

I hopped down from the tree, and arranged all of my things together. I secured my knife in my boot, and another in my belt. I checked my gun, making sure it had some rounds still left in it, and also placed it in my belt as well. I place the straps of my backpack amongst my shoulders and adjusted my back. It wasn't so heavy honestly. I had food, water, clothes, and some ammo, but it was mostly clothing inside of it. I also had a book, too. It was my mother's book of quotes. Every time she learned a new quote, she'd write it down along with a picture of a person, place, or thing. It was probably the most important thing I had.

I took the picture I had in my pocket out and examined the faces. My mother looked so beautiful and young. Her flawless dark brown hair dangled below her shoulders, and her smile whitened the whole picture. Her grey eyes danced in the light. She looked so happy next to my father and I. My father, too, looked so young and handsome. He was a pretty tall man, compared to my mother. She wasn't short, but shorter than my father. He was also very fit and slightly muscular. His really wavy hair goes majestically with his chocolate brown eyes were still filled with life at that time. Before he got sick. My father died in peace, and never came back. He died before this _thing _happened. He had pancreatic cancer a few years before this began. And it's just been my mother and I ever since. These days, it's just me.

I also took a quick glance at myself, too. I take into consideration that I've changed a lot. Im taller, a bit more tan, and my wavy hair has grown to mid back. My fair skin tone is now a bit darker, for I have a golden glow to me. The only thing that still remains are the color of my light brown hair and my grey eyes. But even they, too, have lost their shine, along with my innocence.

The thought of happiness makes me tear up. I still try to remain happy, and think of all the wonderful memories I had with my parents. But then I realize that they're just that: memories. And that I will never be able to make more memories with them again. And so the empty thought is replaced by nothing.

Reality strikes back as I hear some shuffling of leaves to the right of me. I quiet my thoughts as I try to focus on what could have made the sound. I'm not surprised to find that it was indeed a walker. Before I used to call them _it _or _them_, feeling that they don't deserve to be called anything. But I decided to just call them walkers, for that's what my mother had suggested. I quickly grab my knife from my belt and stab the walker in its head. A bit of blood splatters on my fingers and his head, but I'll just wash it off in the stream down ahead.

I used to be afraid of these walkers. I didn't know how to kill them, and felt remorse for killing them. But my mother told me that the only thing you should fear, is fear itself. I didn't know what she meant until the day she got bit. I didn't cry when it had happened, for I knew what I had to do. I comforted her in her last moments, and lingered on the words of encouragement and endearment that she had told me. "My beautiful Isabella. You're so strong, so brave. Daddy and I are so proud of you. You are the best thing we have ever done. Don't let our name die, Bella. I know you'll do fine without me. Just remember what I taught you. Don't get scared my love, they won't hurt you if you're not scared. We'll be watching over you, my sweet, sweet girl. I love you. I'll tell daddy you love him too." She let out a few screams of pain, but then began to quiet down and stifled on a smile. Her eyes closed with the smile still on her lips, and I felt her grasp of me loosen. I knew what I had to do. I took the knife that was lying on the floor next to us from when my mother had dropped it after she had killed the walker that had bit her. I gripped the knife in my hands tightly, and held them in front of me. I kissed my mother's cheek and told her I love her and that I'm sorry for what I had to do. I shoved the knife into my mother's head and past her skull, killing her brain. I took the knife back out and stood up and I looked at her. She still had the smile on her lips. I noticed I hadn't cried throughout her death, and even after what I had just done. But then I realized something from that moment. I wasn't scared of walkers anymore, I was scared of being alone. And that's when the tears began to stream down my face.

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**So I might be posting again tonight, so come back later just to make sure. Thanks guys, and don't forget to review and follow! i have so much planned for this story and i can't wait to share it with you all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter 2! Also, before you go on to the chapter, I just wanted to clearly state that Isabella's mother's death was a memory if you guys didn't quite catch that. It had already happened, but she was just thinking about it. Continue to review/ follow please! Thanks!**

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"**Time = Life, Therefore, waste your time and waste of your life, or master your time and master your life." **Alan Lakein

It's really hard to tell the time these days. I never really knew how useful watches could be until now. I was always that type of time management gal, so it bothers me that this world has taken even _that_ away from me.

I don't really know where I'm heading honestly, for I just sort of walk and try to find food and water and supplies. I always wonder what will happen once the supplies on earth begin to run out. From what it seems like, it's going to be a long time until this damn virus ends, but the remaining survivors will keep using up supplies in the meantime. So what'll happen when it all runs out?

Since I'm running low on food, I decide to head near the rode so I can begin scavenging some food and water by an abandoned house or building. I cross the street as quickly as I can so that I don't get spotted by walkers or bad people. Once I arrive at the building, I give the window a quick knock, just to let me know if I can handle the amount of walkers inside or not. I had learned this tactic on my own through trial-and-error.

After a few minutes or so, only about two walkers seem to be banging by the door, so I take out my knife and open the door slowly but firmly. I immediately stab the one closest to me, and swing my arm around followed by my body so I can stab the other one. They both fall to the ground, and I grin a grin of success.

The place seemed to be an old mini mart. Almost all of it seemed ransacked, but there were a few bags of chips and waters here and there. I noticed that there was a section of medications, so I decided to take a look at them. The shelves were identical to the ones in the rest of the store: empty, but I went ahead and took whatever left over bottles I thought would be useful for the future. I hear some noise from outside, and I quickly hide, not knowing if its dead walkers or living walkers. I begin to hear faint voices, knowing that at least one of them is a male. I stay hidden and try to keep quiet, for I do not know if this is a filthy man.

My mother and I once had an encounter with three filthy men, each taking a turn on my mother. Her pleads and cries of help still pierce my ears to this day. I was still so young and clueless then, for I was only 12 when this had happened. The men had kicked me a bit and told me to wait behind the car or else they'd shoot me and my mother. They were going to rob me of my innocence, too, until my mother eventually beat one of them up, and shot the one that was heading towards me. I eventually had shot the guy my mother had beat up as my mother stabbed the remaining one. I didn't actually know what was happening to her when it had happened, until after her death when I started thinking about our times together. I suppose I realized what men would do to a woman if they didn't have to get caught. These men must've been dancing with the devil. That was the day her eyes had lost their shine completely. Her beauty had left her, along with her dignity.

My muscles loosen a bit as I begin to hear a female's voice. "Keep it quick and just try to find the baby formula and some bottles. We'll search for some more tomorrow," the woman said. Her voice had a southern accent to it, but it was beautiful. Her voice was soft and comforting, yet I could tell she was strong by the way she talked.

All of a sudden, I noticed that a rat began to head towards my way. I quietly tried to shoo it away, but the damn rat kept coming closer and kept squeeking. As I moved backwards a bit, I hit one of the shelves, causing for a few things to come tumbling down upon my head. "Ow!" I whispered to myself. When I look up, I notice a crossbow and woman is in my face.

"I'm not here to cause harm. Please just let me be on my way, don't touch me, please," I said nervously. "We're not going to hurt you sweetheart, as long as you don't hurt us," the woman stated. I noticed that she was young and beautiful. "No, ma'am, those aren't my intentions. I'm just here trying to survive just like you," I said. The woman smiled and helped me get up off the floor. "The name's Isabella Gonzalez," I said as I shook the woman's hand and nodded to the guy. "I'm Maggie and this is Daryl," Maggie said pointing to the man. He seemed pretty intimidating, but in heroic way. "Are you alone?" Daryl asked. I haven't had to verbally state my loneliness yet. "Yes, I have been for almost a year now," I admitted. They both seemed pretty shocked once I told them. I didn't understand why, though. Sure it was difficult to keep breathing, but I imagine I'm not the only one to accomplish this. "How've you managed that?" Maggie asked still a bit astonished. "My mother taught me a lot before she…before she," I kept quiet, not wanting to finish that sentence. The look on their faces assured me that they knew what had happened to my mother. "I suppose I'm also good with knives and bows. Had a long bow, but I have lost it a few months ago," I stated. It was quiet for moment as Maggie and Daryl conversed a silent conversation with their eyes. After a moment, Maggie had asked me If I wanted to join their group.

Before I knew it, I was at the gates of a prison. Looks like today's timing was well planned out by Him.


End file.
